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The Gift – Working Vacation part 3
We ended up sleeping in again Friday morning. I woke up to my wife’s hand wrapped around my dick. She wanted to fuck again. Afterwards We showered and then called the desk to ask the clerk to recommend someplace for lunch. I already knew that there was nothing in walking distance. We ended up ordering in. We ate Chinese in the room and then had sex again about four in the afternoon, after which we just laid around watching the lone pay per view porn channel until it was time to get ready for dinner.
My wife made me promise not to peek and closed the connecting door to the adjoining room to shower and get ready for our Wine and Dine. It was nearly an hour before I saw her again and then we almost didn’t make it to the dinner. She came strutting in on these red four inch high heels with red leather thong ties that wrapped up over her ankles to the tops of her calves; like you always see the ancient Roman soldiers wearing, but on way nicer legs and with higher heels.
She was wearing a little eye-popping shiny gold halter dress, that she said was made of lame’. I’m still not sure what lame’ is, but it fit her like a second skin around her hips and ass and then flared out the last few inches covering her upper thighs. The two narrow isosceles triangles of material forming the top of the dress left enough of her stomach exposed that you could see the top of her pubic bone. The top of each strip barely covered the front of her breasts and none of the sides, and ended in quarter sized gold rings connected around the back of her neck by a gold chain. Her hair was up, exposing her long graceful neck. Large gold loop earrings helped frame her face. My wife turned around slowly as I whistled, when she faced me again she lifted the front of her dress, displaying a tiny sheer red G-string and nude thigh high stockings that reached to within inches of her freshly shaved pussy. Her finger and toenails, lipstick, panties, and high heels were all the same shade of red. My wife looked awesome! I kissed her and slipped a hand under the front of her dress. She slapped my hand away playfully and declared herself ready to go.
Our cab was waiting outside at 7:30pm, the requested time, and just over ten minutes later we were standing out in front of the restaurant at the northeast corner of O’hare airport. We split up at the entrance. My wife went in first, going directly to the bar. I had two cigarettes, to give her time to settle in and to try and calm my nerves, and then went to check in at the maitre d’ station and let him know that I’d be waiting in the bar. I didn’t get ten feet from the station after checking in when a guy about my age, with a tan to rival my wife’s, and wearing a hand tailored suit that must have cost a fortune, walked up to the maitre d’ and gave our company name. The maitre d’ started to point me out as I turned back and introduced myself. As soon as I realized who he was I knew the Game was on. He was quite good looking. Had he arrived fifteen minutes earlier he would have walked right into us and that would have been the end of our Game plan. As it turned out, that would have been a good thing.
Since we were early and our table wasn’t ready yet so I suggested that we wait in the bar. Steve nodded and I lead us to two seats almost directly across from my wife. We hadn’t even ordered yet and he’s nudging my arm.
“Check out the Asian hottie across the bar. You know, I’ve heard that their pussies are slanted too, not just their eyes!”
I laughed and said “I know her.” then lowered my voice to explain further. “Not personally. She was at the conference I just attended. In fact, she has the room next to mine. And I’m pretty sure the slanted pussy thing isn’t true.”
Steve asked “Where are you staying?” I’m sure it was so he knew where she was staying; then when I told him the O’hare Inn, Steve said that he was staying just down the road from me, but didn’t mention the name of the place.
I asked Steve “While we’re waiting, can you give me an approximation of your system requirements and a timeline?”
Steve gives me a ballpark of what he needs and they hope to break ground in the next eighteen months; and then finishes with “So, what do you know about the blonde?”
So I tell Steve “The blonde has fucked a different guy every night, and two brothers at once last night!”
In the middle of this the bartender brings our drinks and Steve tells him, “send the blonde across the bar whatever she’s drinking on us.”
A few minutes later we’re watching as my wife holds up a martini, smiles and mouths “Thank you.”
Steve smiles back at her and says “why don’t you join us!”
My wife thinks about it for a moment, then gets up and starts walking around the end of the bar. While she’s walking our way Steve gets up and moves over one stool to make room for her between us, but with his stool almost touching hers.
As she rounds the end of the bar Steve gets his first look at all of her long, long legs and whispers something like “Ma-done!” and then adds “I’m gonna fuck that!” Her breasts are bouncing in rhythm with the clicking of her heels as she closes the distance and accepts his outstretched hand.
“Hello, I’m Steve.”
“Nice to meet you Steve, I’m Cecelia, but my friends call me Ceel (her Game name). Thanks for the drink.”
I had to introduce myself. Steve had forgotten I was there. My wife shook my hand and slid up on the empty bar stool between us while Steve ogles her legs as she swings around to face the bar.
As soon as she was settled onto her stool, and Steve had managed to pull his eyes up from between her legs to her breasts, he asks her “Say, have you eaten yet? Because if not would you care to join us in the restaurant for dinner?”
My wife looked over at me, then at Steve; then she hemmed and hawed a little and said “I don’t know … I haven’t eaten. Why not. Thank you. That would be nice.”
Steve gave me this big grin and then started playing twenty questions with my wife. “Where are you from?”
“I thought so with that tan – too natural. Are you married?” He had to have seen her ring.
My wife wriggled the fingers on her left hand, flashing the diamond, and said “Yes. How about you?”
“Me, no! Divorced, twice; but I’m always looking for my next ex-wife” he added with a smile. “How long will you be in town?”
“I’m leaving Sunday. How about you? Are you from Chicago?”
“Yea, far south side” he said, “but I have an early flight tomorrow morning, a prolonged business trip, so I have a room just down the road. It’s more convenient than having to get up at 4am to drive to the airport.” We sat there a moment and then Steve leaned in close to my wife and whispered something in her ear.
“Oh yes!” she said, probably louder than intended. Steve reached into his right front pants pocket and put something in my wife’s hand. She got up and excused herself to the ladies room. She turned my way, did this little thing with her nose and inhaled through it, her way of letting me know that he’d given her some coke. “Excuse me, I’ll be right back” she said.
“Do all you want!” Steve said as we watched my wife’s ass as she walked off, with just that little extra sway in her hips that she always adds on a Game night. I couldn’t believe that he’d tell two complete strangers that he had coke, but that happened often back in the 70’s and early 80’s.
My wife is gone for quite a while. The conversation went back to his system requirements until Steve looks over my shoulder and says “I have to tap that!”
I turned to watch my wife walking back. Hanh was quite a sight, hips swaying, breasts bouncing with each step, nipples pushing out against the flimsy metallic fabric. I kept waiting for one of her breasts to roll out the side of the narrow strips of material that didn’t quite cover the front of her breasts. She tried to hand Steve back what I now saw was a small brown vial that he had passed her.
“Keep it,” Steve said.
My wife held her hands out to her sides and turned from side to side and said “I don’t have anyplace to put it,” and she was right. No pockets! No purse! No little clutch that she sometimes carries.
“What were you going to pay for your drinks with?” Steve asked.
‘Good question’ I thought, until my wife pulled up the side of her dress. There was at least one folded $20 tucked in the elastic top of her thigh high stocking. She had obviously given this some thought.
Steve laughed as he ogled the deeply tanned band of flesh momentarily exposed above her lace stocking tops, and said “then put this in the other one” and tried to hand the vial back to her. But my wife declined again, and slid back up onto her stool.
Right after that the bar phone rang and the bartender announced that our table was ready. Steve led my wife off with his arm around her waist while I settled the bar bill. They were waiting for the table to be setup with the third place setting when I got to the maitre d’s station. Now Steve had his hand on my wife’s ass, his thumb pulling the waistband down just enough to expose the thin red ‘T’ on the band of her G-string where it ran down her butt crack.
“You must work out” he said as he squeezed a butt cheek.
“Not nearly as often as I’d like” she replied. “I travel a lot.”
Steve tipped the Maitre d’ “We’d like something private!” I didn’t see what he tipped him but two minutes later we were shown to a booth in the far back corner next to a window looking out onto whatever main road is on the north side of the airport. We stood there a moment as they cleared away a fourth place setting, then Steve indicated that my wife should take a seat on his side of the table, next to the window and facing the back wall, then slid up against her.
Our waiter introduces himself and asks if we want wine, and of course Steve says. The sommelier comes over with a wine list. Steve orders the most expensive bottle of Bordeaux on the menu. The waiter comes back and we order. Steve and I order the prime rib. My wife orders a seafood version of a Cobb salad, with chunks of lobster instead of chicken. We’re soon back to Steve playing twenty questions when the waiter shows with our food. Steve had ordered a baked potato which came with a little pink plastic flag stuck in it that read ‘I’ve been rubbed, and tubbed and scrubbed and you can eat me.’ It was meant to be a reference to the potato skin that was clean enough to eat; but you could almost see the gears turning in his head as her was looking down at my wife’s lap.
No sooner do we finish eating and Steve grins at me and then turned and looked at my wife. Without warning he stuck his right hand in the top of my wife’s dress and pulled the skimpy gold tapered band of cloth towards him, completely baring her left breast and rock hard nipple, and stretching the skimpy band of cloth to the limits of its elasticity until she was pulled up closer against him. The backs of his knuckles were rubbing up against her nipple as his left hand lined up the little plastic flag pole in the gold ring at the top of the strap and pushed it down and through.
“There! That’s where that belongs!” He announced proudly and, still pulling her up against him, he kissed her.
My wife kissed him back as he continued to run his knuckles up and down across her nipple; the reddish brown areola fully distended; with all its little wrinkles gone. They broke the kiss and my wife sat back and readjusted what little there was to the front of her dress, leaving the little flag in place while giving me a quick grin.
Our waiter returned, spotted the flag, and smiled brightly as he held his gaze on my wife’s breasts quite a bit longer than he should have. Steve ordered a round of Drambuie for us as he sat and chatted up my wife, eventually asking if she was ready for more coke. When she nodded he passed her back the little vial and she excused herself to the ladies room. We both watched her ass as she disappeared around the corner towards the ladies room. As soon as she was out of sight Steve got up and followed her around the corner. I thought for sure that he was going to try and bone my wife in the restroom, but no, it turned out he just wanted to talk to her.
My wife was back first. She checked to make sure Steve wasn’t in sight and leaned down to give me a quick kiss. “Steve asked me if we could drop you off and go for a drink. I told him that I’d have to think about it.”
“It’s up to you” I told her, “but if you do then think about coming up with some reason for not spending the night if you can.”
That had never happened before. Every other time we played our Game the furthest we’d been apart was different areas or floors of the same motel or hotel.
“Maybe” she said in a teasing manner. “He’s quite handsome!” and sat down again.
Steve was back a few minutes later and suggested that we have one more drink before calling it a night. Because we’d just had Drambuie I suggested Rusty Nails and waved for our waiter. Several times Steve would lean in and whisper something to my wife and she would whisper back.
Twenty minutes later we had all finished our drinks and Steve turned to my wife “So what do you say?”
She nodded and said “Okay, sure. Why not.”
Steve turned to me with a smile that was somewhere between ‘cat-that-ate-the-canary’ and ‘I-told-you-I-was-gonna-tap-that’ and said “Can we drop you off so you don’t have to call a taxi.”
I looked over at my wife. She smiled and said “Steve and I are going for night cap.”
Steve went to pull his car around to the front entrance while I settled the bill. I wasn’t sure how I was going to get a dinner bill that big past the company bean counter. She’d given me hell over expenses a third of this one. However, other than a scowl when I turned it in, she never said a word; which could only have meant that Walter had pre-approved it.
Steve was waiting outside at the open passenger door of his car when my wife and I exited the restaurant. He took her hand and steered her onto the front passenger bench seat, watched her flash lots of leg as she slid in, and closed the door. Then he opened the back passenger door and with a sweeping flourish of his left arm indicated that I should sit in back.
Steve must have had a hand down between my wife’s legs before we pulled out into traffic, because I spent most of the ten minute drive listening to my wife’s mewing noises and watching Steve’s jackhammer arm as she slid further and further down in the seat. We pulled into our motel and under the portcullis. Steve and I both got out of the car at the same time. He walked around the front and shook my hand.
“Thank Wally for the dinner. I’ll contact your office once I decide what I’m going to do.” His fingers were soaking wet!
I stood and watched them make the wide left turn south out of the driveway until they disappeared. All of a sudden I had an uneasy feeling, but shook it off. It was just after 10:30pm when I settled in to my room to wait for my wife.
I took a quick shower and put on my pajamas, then opened one of the beers I had stashed in the tiny room fridge and turned on the lone pay per view porn channel. A diminutive Japanese girl was getting double teamed by two black men with two more playing with her tits while she jacked them off. That was the grand finale, ten minutes of them all switching places and then another movie started.
The next movie was set in France. The femme fatale couldn’t orgasm through regular sex, only through giving oral sex. Oh, and her pussy talked. Pretty much all it ever said was “Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck me!” but it did have other dialog too!
She goes to a doctor who discovers that her clitoris is in her throat, which went a long way to explain the orally administered orgasms. She then goes through a series of adventures, one of which opens with her walking down the crowded streets of mid-day Paris wearing only an open raincoat held together at the waist by its belt. This naturally draws quite a bit of attention until her pussy tells her to enter an adult theater she was passing.
She sat down in the front row and over the next few minutes all of the dozen or more guys in the place are sitting all around her with a guy on either side of her playing with her pussy. After an orgasm she stands and goes down a set of stairs that’s in the aisle between the front row and the screen. The next time they show her she’s in a restroom facing the wall getting boned from behind with a line of men out the door. Somewhere along the way she switches to giving everyone blow jobs too and the men are all in line again, that or there were a lot more men than originally shown.
When that movie ended the first movie started again. The Japanese girl, with long straight blonde hair and her face framed in bangs, is sitting with her Caucasian husband having coffee at the kitchen table. She’s got this tiny red teddy on trying to seduce him by playing with his tiny cock under the table with her foot; but he’s lost reading the paper. All of a sudden he looks at the time and jumps up and rushes off to work without so much as a goodbye. She waves goodbye to him as he backs his car out of the driveway and he’s gone. She goes to her bedroom and pulls a huge black dildo out of a nightstand drawer and by the time she’s got all of it in and working up to the big “O” the doorbell rings. She throws on a short robe that almost covers her nudity and answers the door with the robe not quite closed. It’s the all black construction crew there to complete the remodel of her basement.
She gives the guy in charge a good look at her tits as she lets them through the door leading down to the future rec. room, and then sneaks partially down the stairs to listen in as they all talk about what they’d like to do to her. She masturbates to an orgasm and a loud moan escapes her lips. She quickly realizes they must have heard her, and rushes up the stairs and closes the door, but not before the foreman catches a glimpse of her pussy from behind before she gets the door closed.
Next she’s back up in her bedroom with the dildo again and a flashback to the men talking about what they wanted to do to her. Fast forward and she’s back in the short robe taking down a tray covered with cups and a pot of coffee. She turns her back to them and puts the tray down on a low stack of drywall, bending from the waist, and exposing her ass and the back of her pussy to them. The foreman walks up behind her and runs a finger through her slit and she wriggles her ass as the camera zooms in and he buries a finger in her pussy.
By now it’s after 2am, I’m on my third beer, and I move from the chair to the bed for the rest of the movie. When I look back they’re all up upstairs in her bedroom. The pretty little housewife has a cock in her mouth, one in each hand, and the foreman has his face buried in her pussy. By now I’m imagining that it’s my wife that I’m watching, and at 3am I’m pretty sure that my wife wasn’t going to be back until morning and called it a night.
I woke up to a noise coming from the next room. The early morning sun was trying to shine in around the window curtains as I looked at the alarm clock on the bedside table. It was just after 5:30 in the morning. The noise was coming from the connecting door which I had locked just in case they came back to her room. It was my wife trying to open the door. I jumped up and unlocked the door. She nearly fell in as I opened the door. She was a total mess. Her hair was down and looked as though she had been through a wind tunnel. I helped her over to the edge of the bed and sat her down.
“Don’t worry” she said, “I took care of the cabbie,” and fell back across the bed – totally exhausted.
That’s when I got a really close look at her. One of the thigh high stockings was down around her ankles along with the tied thong for that shoe. When she left the red leather thong bows to her high heels were tied in front just below her knees. Now they were now loosely tied in back; and her dress… The front of her dress, her legs, her stockings, even her shoes, were covered in spunk. I untied her shoes and set them aside. There was sperm on and in her shoes and all over her feet. I pulled off her stockings. Both knees were laddered and filthy. A business card with five twenty dollar bills wrapped around it were tucked in the elastic of the stocking that was still all the way up. Steve’s, with a phone number hand written on the back, and a note, ‘call next time you’re in town’. I would deal with him later!
Between her thighs and down her legs was a trail of sperm; some fresh, some crusted, and some in various stages in between; an archeological time line of the last seven hours. Her dress wasn’t in any better shape, with streaks and blotches of milky white fluids everywhere. I rolled her over onto her stomach to undo the button and zipper at the back of her waist. The back was worse than the front, with the addition of a huge wet spot. I carefully undid the zipper and pulled the dress up over her head and rolled her onto her back again. At first I thought her crotch was bleeding, that’s how red her pussy was, and gaping open with sperm still running out.
I started a bath with very warm water and then went back and helped her into the bathtub. She had sperm on her everywhere; all over her breasts, on her face and neck, in her hair. Everywhere. We sat in the tub for quite a while, with my wife leaning back against my chest while sitting between my legs. Every once in a while I would add more hot water as I gently bathed her and mentally went through what I was going to do to Steve if I ever saw him again.
I even thought about calling the police, but what would I tell them? “Hello. I sat at a bar and told this guy that I’d just met all about how my wife had fucked a bunch of guys over the past few days, including two at once the night before! I bought them dinner and drinks and then shook his hand right before I let him drive off with my wife for a late night date?” No, this would have to be one of those revenge is best served cold issues.
My wife slept till noon, got up and went to the bathroom, drank an inordinately large amount of water and went back to bed and didn’t wake up again until nearly 6pm – starving. She said that she was going to take a shower and then she needed to eat. She hadn’t eaten since the evening before.
She went in to her room for a long hot shower before getting ready. When I walked in to check on her she was sitting on the bed in a pair of sheer white thigh high stockings and her favorite espadrilles. I wanted to talk about what had happened to her but she promised to tell me everything she could remember right after I fed her.
Then she asked “Would you like me to wear the dress I wore last night?”
Rather than say anything I walked to the clothes rack and laid the now leopard print dress on the bed next to her and left for the adjoining room to finish getting cleaned up for dinner.
All I could hear was “Oh! Oh my! Oh! Oh my!” until I entered the shower. Once I’d finished getting dressed I walked into her room. My wife was still sitting on the edge of the bed with the soiled dress across her lap.
“I’m sorry!” she said. “I can hardly remember anything about most of last night! And I’m afraid that this dress is ruined! I’m not even going to tell you how much it cost, but the chain and rings aren’t gold plate.”
“Don’t worry about it. As long as you’re okay” I said and kissed her on the forehead. I went back to my room and rang the front desk to call us a cab, and to give her some more alone time. If she wanted company she could come to my room.
A few minutes later she walked in and put her arms around me. She’d put on a very short light weight yellow sun dress. She said that her breasts were sore and covered with hickeys and wished she’d brought a bra. “I really am sorry darling” she half whispered. There were tears in her eyes.
We stood there with my arms around her for quite a while, not saying anything until the mood was broken by the ringing of the phone. Our taxi was out front.
We went to a nice Italian restaurant that was just west of where we had dinner the night before. The place was packed but a $20 to the maitre d’ got us seated fairly fast. We ordered a bottle of wine and two of the featured pasta specials and then I sat there patiently waiting for my wife to begin talking.
“Are you mad? She asked.
“Yes! But not at you darling, just concerned. I need to know what happened.”
“Okay, just let me get some food in me first while I try and put together what happened.” she said, downed a half glass of wine, put it down and began eating. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her eat so fast. As soon as she’d cleared her plate my wife picked the napkin up off of her lap and patted her mouth with it a few times, then tossed it in on top of her empty plate and looked over at me. I thought she was stalling, but she was merely composing her thoughts.
“Okay. What I can remember. We left you at the motel and drove straight down the road two or three miles at most to Steve’s motel room. As soon as we were in the room he closed the door he pinned me against the wall and began sucking on my breasts, then he kissed me and said that we needed some more coke. Steve pulled out a light blue plastic cylinder from one of his suitcases and removed the top. It was a miniature grinder. He said that all he had left was a couple of rocks and after a minute or so of him cranking a fold out handle you could hear that there was nothing left to grind. Steve unscrewed the bottom section and filled the empty vile in his pocket, that had a spoon attached to the screw cap with a short chain, and then dumped the rest of the powder on a desk and pulled it out into two nice long lines. “For you” he said. Do you like to dance?”
“Great,” he said, “why don’t you do the lines while I make a couple of phone calls. I belong to a private club just up the road. I just have to let them know that I’m bringing a guest.”
“He made two phone calls while I did the lines. I remember him telling me how pure it was. He hung up the phone and knelt down behind me as I was finishing up the second line. Steve pulled my panties down and I stepped out of them. Then he tossed them into his open suitcase and said that I wouldn’t need them anymore. Then he spun me around and pushed me onto my back on the bed and started to kiss and lick my pussy.
By then I was so hot that I ground my pussy up against his face and had my first orgasm almost immediately. I remember him saying that he wanted to eat me before I got too sloppy. I thought he meant before he fucked me; and he did fuck me before we left. Twice. His room was in the far back corner of the motel on the ground floor. All the lights were on and the curtains were wide open! A car drove slowly past the window and then backed up and stopped to watch while he was screwing me. I told Steve about the car and that the curtains were open. He said not to worry about it now, he’d take care of it when we were done.
After we finished I jumped up and hurried to the bathroom to get away from the window and clean up. When I came out Steve had ground some more rock and was putting the powder in another little empty brown bottle from his suitcase, and then put it in his pocket. He kissed me and asked if I was ready for that drink he promised me and some dancing.
He handed me one of the vials as soon as we got in his care ‘for the drive’ he said. It was maybe a five minute drive back towards our motel on the same side of the street. The club was on a corner with a traffic light, in a glass front building, but all the windows, including the glass door, were painted black. Looking back, I was already a little wobbly when I got out of his car, but I thought it was from walking around to the front of the building on gravel in the high heels.
Steve knocked on the door a couple of times and a huge man, I mean he filled the doorway, opened the door and saw Steve, looked at me and smiled and stepped aside to let us in. We followed him through an empty front area into a back room that was decorated like a nightclub, except that, other than the guy who let us in, there were only two other men at a table in the far corner. Four men and I was the only woman. I was concerned but then the big guy waved us through and asked what we wanted a drink as he walked around behind the bar. Steve asked me if scotch was alright and then ordered us each a scotch. The two other men in the room were sitting at a table back in the far corner talking, and neither of them looked up when we entered. There was a bunch of game tables, a pool table, air hockey and a bowling machine spread around along the walls of the room, and several pinball machines in the corner nearest the bar.
“Do you like to play?” Steve asked, pointing to the pinball machines. We began playing a game of pinball but then the bartender was standing there and started to dump out a little coke on the glass top. Steve told him that he’d brought his own, and the guy handed Steve a piece of a plastic straw. Steve dumped the contents of one of the vials out, pulled out a business card, and divided the pile into two fairly long lines and handed me the straw.
The bartender returned with another scotch for each of us. “For you!” he said. “Compliments of the club.”
I looked over and said “thank you” to the bartender.
“He just smiled and nodded his head. Steve started playing with my breasts while I did the first line. I started to turn so the others couldn’t see but Steve stopped me and turned me so that my back was facing the guys in the corner and flipped up the back of my dress as I finished one of the two lines.”
“Everything was fine, for a while! Steve had the bartender turn on a jukebox that I hadn’t noticed and asked me to dance. It was all slow songs. He held me close and kissed me. Then one of the guys that had been sitting in the corner came over and asked to cut in. When that song was over the other guy asked me to dance. A couple of songs later there were three other guys there that I never saw come in; and then they were taking turns dancing with me with their hands all over me.”
“I have no idea where they came from, but they all asked me to dance. There was a Vince, and another Tony I think. Did I mention that the bartenders name was Tony? And a Sal. Sal could have been older than my father. Anyway Tony and I were dancing and suddenly I stumbled. If he hadn’t been holding my butt I would have fallen. He asked if I was okay and I told him that I felt a little woozy. Tony walked me to the bar and I sat down.”
“The feeling passed in a few minutes and I stood up. Steve took my hand and asked how I felt. I told him that I was fine, I’d just been a little light headed. I really was fine but he insisted that I sit at the bar where everyone else was now sitting too. One of the men sitting next to me at the bar was telling jokes.
Maybe fifteen minutes later Steve said “I know what’s wrong, you need some more coke!” and he led me back to the pinball machine where I did about half of the other line and then we played a couple of games of pinball. From then on things were really foggy.
One of the men that had been at the table back in the corner challenged Steve and I to a game of partners eight ball. About half way through the game every time I bent over the table for a shot one of them was playing with my breasts or my pussy. All of a sudden someone grabbed my hips and tried to slid his dick in me from behind. I never saw who it was and I couldn’t help myself. I needed to be fucked.”
“That was it! We never finished the game. When he was done one of the three new guys started fucking me while I was still bent over the pool table with the other two guys playing with my breasts and rolling my nipples. Next thing I know I’m on a couch that was now pulled out into a bed and I couldn’t get enough dick. I don’t know what came over me! They took turns taking me and when two more guys came in and the bartender came over, and…, and they all fucked me. When they were done I told Steve that I wanted to fuck.
He said “okay, but that I needed to finish the line on the pinball machine before we go.” I finished the line and then Tony the bartender and Steve helped me out to the car. I told them I wanted to fuck and Steve said ‘Don’t worry, I promise. We just have one more stop to make’ and the next thing I knew Steve and I were in a booth in a adult bookstore.”
She paused to collect her thoughts again and then continued. “Okay, so where was I? Oh, yeah. Steve kept fucking me on a bench in the booth, over and over and over again while he had his dick in my mouth, but that can’t be right? Then the last thing I remember was Steve helping me into the motel and passing me off to the front desk clerk, at least I think it was the clerk, who helped me to my room. I’m really sorry babe! I don’t know what came over me. I’ve never felt like that before”
“It must not have been coke he was giving you, or he slipped something in your drink,” I said, getting madder and madder by the minute. I excused myself to the restroom and dug Steve’s card out of my wallet on the way to the payphone, dialed his number. I got an answering machine and hung up.
I discovered later that Steve really did get on an airplane that morning. But, more importantly, a few months later one of the other engineers at work came up to me. He had heard all about the ‘hot slut’ we’d picked up in Chicago from Walter, and wanted me to tell him all about it.
Months later after the story had made the rounds of the entire company, I found out from one of the salesmen that Steve and Walter had been roommates in college; and that the supposed coke was cut with ground Quaaludes, something the two of them have been doing to unsuspecting women since they’d roomed together. That was when I realized that somehow Walter must have found out about my wife and I and our Game! We’d been set up.
After that I stuck around just long enough to take a few of his clients along with when I quit and started my own company. I wasn’t there long enough to meet many, but I got three of them; and one of those was huge. It was the only way I could think of to fuck him up without going to jail for it.
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